Why I make the bed in the morning

Some mornings, this bed is a fresh-plowed field

Still ripe with dew and softly radiant;
Others, it is all scorched earth, bright yellow
Coverlet thrown off to relieve the heat;
And occasionally, it lies fallow
Waiting patiently, soaking in the sun.
I always do the same thing in the morning
No matter what the night before has brought.
With the shower singing in the next room
I tuck the sheets and gather up the dreams
Place the pillows side by side, and give thanks
For daylight, and forgiveness, and coffee.

About Andrew Kreider

I'm a poet and musician,transplanted from London, England to beautiful northern Indiana. By day I am a stay-at-home dad with our three kids while my amazingly talented spouse conquers medical school one long shift at a time. At night, I'm a performer and trouble-maker. I love my life.

One response »

  1. Love it, love it, love it! =)


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